Origins: A Less than Ideal Circumstance
by Aenilas
Summary: Prequel to A Question of Lineage. Severus and Harry meet Ella (original character) under The Worst Possible circumstance. Other char/Harry/Severus. Warnings: OOC, Non-Cannon, Gore, Violence, Torture, Sexual Abuse.
1. Chapter 1

I've already decided to start writing the prequel to A Question of Lineage. This story has been in my head for years and I've only ever written out disjointed sections of it. The mood never struck me to write the beginning until now. I've never decided on exactly how or when Harry and Severus get together, and I probably never will, so for the purpose of this story, it has already happened.

Enjoy!

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"Severus, over here!" I whispered sharply to Snape, motioning him over with my hand. I was studying a bookshelf in library, something seemed different about this one. I was pushing and pulling at books on the shelves hoping something would happen.

"Goodfellow and Salt have cleared both upstairs levels. No people, corpses or otherwise," Severus updated me.

I turned my head to meet his dark eyes, "As we expected." Most death eaters had fled weeks ago, in the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat, before the ministry had regrouped and reorganized.

"There are a lot of magical artifacts, most of them cursed," he added.

I rolled my eyes, "More paperwork." I still had not warmed up to the idea of working for a ministry that, through ignorant refusal to see reality, had nearly caused the destruction of the wizarding world.

"Under Cornelius Fudge's authority, Harry" Severus reminded. Had I spoken out loud? "Kingsley's Administration seems adequate."

A glowing recomendation, considering the source, I laughed- to myself this time. We were clearing out the Winston residence, one of the last remaining homes of death eaters, known to the Ministry anyway.

Immediately after the Battle for Hogwarts, Severus and I had been approached by Kingsley and Dumbledore to lead a task force consisting mostly of Aurors and the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix. This task force was to find and capture the remaining death eaters and associates of Voldemort. As hesitant as I was to become a Ministry employee, Kingsley had convinced me that few others were capable of the job.

The real reason I agreed had nothing to do with any risidual feelings of wanting to save the world, and more to do with the that fact that I didn't know what else to do. My very existance had been dedicated to destroying Voldemort for so long, that once I accomplished the impossible task... I didn't know what to do, where to go or who I was.

Severus, I suspect, was here because I was. Our strange truce after Voldemort's defeat had somehow, defying all logic, laws of magic and principles of the universe, transformed into my first real relationship. Though a little bit unstable and at moments volatile, it was exactly what I needed.

Though Severus gave me everything I wanted, I still felt like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. Some vital peice of myself lost, or forgotten. I found it hard to sleep at night since the battle ended, sometimes the vastness of that missing peice was so large I felt it physically. Like a gaping chasm with the wind howling through it, tearing off the surface layer of soil with each gust. Dumbledore said it was where Voldemort's soul had been planted in mine. Severus said the feeling would fade. I couldn't help but feel that it was bigger than that.

I agreed to be a part of the task force so that I would be distracted from imagining the wind eroding my soul every moment of every day.

I had now touched every book on the shelf with no results. I looked at Severus pleadingly. He strode over, twisted the arm of the delicate mermaid stature on the middle shelf. The bookshelf spun 90 degress to reveal and narrow, unlit stairwell as I scowled at him.

He grinned smugly at me and gestured for me to go first. The first thing that struck me was the cold, damp air as we descended into darkness.

* * *

I've always thought that Harry would have a difficult time recovering from the war. Who is Harry Potter after he's done being 'The Boy Who Lived', and 'The Chosen One'? I think it would take some time for him the puzzle that out.

Review!

xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

"Someone is down here," Severus said darkly as descended down the stairs, he put a finger to his lips to indicate the need for caution. I tended agree with him, I felt something too. We slowed our steps, laying our feet on the floor gently. My time with Severus had taught me how to be silent and discreet, but I would never be as good as he was at what could only be called 'gliding' across the floor. I felt a tremor of sympathy for the life that he had lived and the danger he had put himself in that had led to his stealthy skills.

"Prisoner?" I whispered as we found ourselves at the bottom of the stairs in a narrow dungeon like corridor with several doors.

"What kind of prisoner elects to stay imprisoned?" he replied, indicating the closest door to us was actually open about an inch, the chain broken. I extinguished my lumos. "Be ready," he warned as he reached to open it.

I held my wand up, a curse ready on my lips, my fingers were steady but my heart was racing.

Severus hurled the door open, it crashed as loud as thunder into the wall behind it. I did not see what I expected to see. Considering it was in the dungeon it surprisingly furnished. In the light of the one torch lit on the far wall the chamber has a small table and reading chair in one corner, the floor in the other corner was raised in it there was a massive, Gothic 4 poster bed. The bed was smooth except for a small lump in the middle, which I quickly realized was actually a small body and the source of the presence we had felt.

The walls surrounding the bed were covered with objects that I largely could not identify. Chains, knives, surgical instruments, whips, cuffs, leather and metal devices that made my stomach churn. Most were caked with a reddish brown substance, suspiciously like blood.

I edged closer to the bed, my wand at the ready, as Severus checked all corners behind me. I was now 10 feet away from the bed and I could tell the body was a scarcely clad female lying limply on red sheets. No, not red sheets, white, covered in blood. My heart sank into my stomach.

"Uh.. Miss?" I called out lamely. Severus whirled around in surprise.

We both froze as her body suddenly jerked into motion.

"I'm sorry, Master," she croaked weakly and pulled herself onto her knees, facing away from us, her face pressed against blood soaked sheets, her rear end in the air, "I-I fell asleep, M'Lord... Please, for... give me." It was impossible to ignore the panic is her soft voice. "I didn't know you were... today... I didn't..." She was getting less coherent.

I couldn't see her face, in fact the only thing I could see was the back of her thighs and her derriere which was clad in something torn and lacy that covered exactly nothing. Smooth alabaster skin was marred with dark bruises, angry blood smears and teeth marks.

My self possessed Severus seemed to be as lost as I was as to how we should proceed.

"Please, M'Lord," she begged, our silence was obviously distressing her. She scrambled off the bed towards us, but her legs couldn't hold her weight and she fell to the ground her flesh making a harsh slapping noise as she landed.

I still couldn't move as she crawled towards us, long ashy blonde hair matted and tangled and covering her face. She had on a flimsy piece of torn lingerie, her right breast spilling out, bite marks around her nipple. The lingerie was shredded on the left side and I could count her ribs.

"M'srry," she mumbled as she neared me, Severus's entire body went rigid, "Please, Master... M'ready... now..." Her face was purposely turned to the ground, avoiding eye contact.

It wasn't until she pressed her face into my groin and her fingers were fumbling with the buttons on my robes that I found the ability to move again. I dropped to my knees in front of her, pulled her face up with my hands and started smoothing the hair away from her eyes.

The expression on her face was like nothing I had ever seen before, raw fear, panic, confusion and hatred. I couldn't bare to look at it, so I pulled her body tightly against my chest and started rocking her, stroking her head, "He's dead. They're all gone. You're safe now," I told her. After a few minutes her body stopped resisting and slumped boneless against mine.

I made eye contact with Severus. He removed his cloak and I released her just enough so he could wrap her in it.

"What's your name?" he asked gentler than anything I had ever heard from his mouth before.

"Ella.." she said after a long pause.

"Ella," he repeated, "You were a captive of the dark lord?"

"Yes..." she whispered, her body tensing up again.

"He's dead. Voldemort has been killed. The war is over. We're here to save you."

She said nothing, still avoiding eye contact.

"I am Severus Snape, this is Harry Potter."

"Harry... Potter..." she was processing. She pulled away from me to look at me for the first time. "We were... looking... save Harry Potter."

"We?" Severus prompted.

"Aurors..."

"You're an Auror?" I asked, steadying her shoulders. She didn't have the strength to kneel on her own.

"Yes," it was almost a question.

"You were on a mission to find Harry?" Severus asked.

"Harry... Potter," she agreed, "Help Harry Potter."

"You were captured?"

Her eyebrows, delicate and beautifully arched, scrunched together in thought, "Ambushed."

"Are there any other captives here?" I asked, changing the subject. I could barely handle the stab of guilt at the thought that this had probably happened to her because she had been trying to help me. How many people died so that I could live to kill him? How many people suffered like this?

"I don't... think so," she said. She was more coherent now. Her eyes seemed to be finding focus again. She looked directly at me now, her eyes were electrifying in their sudden intensity, "You killed him?" she asked firmly.

All I could do was nod under the fierceness of her gaze. She whispered, "Thank you." I nodded again.

Quite suddenly, she let out a single giggle. Severus, who had risen and was studying the blood strewn objects covering the walls was just as suddenly by my side again.

"It's funny, I'm here because we tried to save you... but now you're saving me."

"That's not very funny," I told her, but for some reason I smiled anyway.

"Please, Harry," She was serious again, "Don't take me to the hospital. Not the Ministry. I don't want to talk about it... don't make me talk to them... I don't want the doctors and their tests and their 'kits'. I know what happens to... rape victims. I don't want to make a statement... I just want to... carry on with my life. Forget." The panic was back in her eyes. I knew with absolute certainty that I would do just about anything to prevent that panic.

"We won't," Severus replied with the same conviction I felt.

"Is there someone we can take you to?" I asked her.

Her eyes fell to the floor again, "No," she said softly.

"Husband? Family?"

"No."

"You'll come with us then," Severus said.


	3. Chapter 3

I managed to survive working Christmas in retail... to bring you this! A new chapter! Just written. Probably going to revamp chapter 2 a little bit soon, possibly more. In fact, most everything is going to get a revise before the end I am sure. Enjoy!

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"D'you know her, Severus?" I asked. I had noticed a small familiarity in the way my former professor had spoken to Ella.

"Yes," Severus didn't make eye contact over his book.

We were at home in the crowded library of Severus' small cottage. We were mostly just wasting time, Hermione was upstairs helping Ella to heal and clean up.

_"I'm here, Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione had called urgently as she let herself in, ignoring Severus' scowl from the kitchen. Right before we left the mansion I had sent her a Patronus pleading for her to meet us here as soon as she could. We'd barely been home 5 minutes._

_"In here, Hermione!" I called from the next room. I was kneeling on the floor next to Ella's small body, wrapped in Severus' cloak, curled up in our arm chair. She wasn't asleep, her eyes were open and staring straight ahead.._

_"Harry... what on earth..." Hermione gasped as she took in the girl's appearance, "You've got to take her to the hospital."_

_"No!" I said urgently, "She doesn't want to go..."_

_"What are you going to do then?" she asked sharply._

_"Well, I can't very well help strip her down and bandage her up myself can I?" I said sarcastically._

_"Harry, I really don't think either of us if qualified to help her right now..." Hermione protested, "St. Mungo's has excellent-"_

_"Please," Ella whispered, making eye contact with Hermione._

_My dearest friend knelt in front of Ella and took her hand gently, "I'll help as best I can...?"_

_"Ella," I offered._

_"Ella," Hermione repeated. Then she turned a scowl on me, "Where can I take her? Can she walk?"_

_"The guest room upstairs. I've gathered what you'll need," Severus offered. I wasn't sure how long he'd been there, slumped against the archway to the kitchen. "Harry will take her."_

_I caught Ella's eyes and I moved to lift her, asking for permission. She made eye contact but neither denied me nor gave me permission. So I lifted her as gently as I could and laid her slowly on the guest bed. She did not react at all._

_I looked at Hermione, who snarled, "I'll deal with you after."_

Severus was reading, as always, and I was waiting. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for exactly... what would I say to her? I certainly wouldn't ask her about how we had found her.

No further information to my question was offered from Severus, so I prompted, "She looks familiar to me. Hogwarts?"

"Yes... but no," was his reply.

"Sev..." I pleaded, this time he did look at me, eyes narrowed. "Severus," I corrected myself, "Who is she?"

"Ella Parker. She is 3 years your senior, she went to Beauxbatons and was part of the group that came to Hogwarts for the TriWizard Tournament."

"You remember that?"

"I never forget a student who is good at potions," he said simply.

"How long d'you think she was... down there?" I asked hesistantly.

"Winston House? Not long. Malfoy Manor for a little bit, but mostly she was at the MacNair's," he replied softly, "10 months. She was his favourite... pet."

"Did you...?"

"Did I what Mr. Potter?" He looked angry. More angry than usual anywhere. I shouldn't have asked.

"Nevermind," an idea had suddenly occured to me, "How many death eater's do you figure she saw?"

"All of them," he replied, "The active ones anyway."

"She could help us then. You know... tell us who we're looking for," I suggested.

"Harry! I don't think that's entirely appropriate," Hermione scolded as she entered the room, "The poor thing doesn't need you asking her all kinds of questions about what happened to her. Where did you find her?"

"We raided Winston Manor tonight, we found her in the dungeons," I explained, "The door wasn't even locked anymore. She could have left, who knows how long ago, but she... well, I don't think she was.. able."

"How did she survive, Voldemort was killed weeks ago?" Hermione asked.

I looked at Severus. "Somebody decided to keep her," he stated, like it explained everything.

Hermione must have understood because she grimaced. "Whatever possessed you to bring her here?"

"She asked us to," I answered, "You know what she would be put through, Hermione. They would ask for statement after statement from her, probably keep her in 'protective custody' until they had wrung every detail out of her. And before that St. Mungo's would have insisted on picking over her with a fine toothed comb for any and all evidence of rape, which is almost as invasive and what she already went through."

"How is that any better than you asking her how many death eater's she saw and who they were?" Hermione asked, indignant.

"We would be nicer about it!" I said. I knew immediately that it didn't come out right by the way her face darkened.

She didn't press the matter, however, because Severus interjected, "What is her current status?"

"Well, I'm not a healer," her narrowed eyes met mine then, "But she should be okay. Physically. She's somewhat... catatonic. She does speak, she told me she's allergic to Belladonna, so there were a lot of your potions I couldn't use, Professor."

"I'll make something different," he mumbled, I could see the wheels in his head clicking through potions and ingredients for the solution. His right index finger began to tap, which I had learned it only did when he was thinking about his craft.

"Severus," I hated to interupt his thoughts, but I had to know, "We've found other women in our raids that looked to have been... used. But nothing like her. Do you know why...?"

"The Dark Lord performed an... experiment of sorts on her. The consequences of which are still largely unknown," was all he offered, and his tone suggested it was not open for discussion.

"A curse? a charm?" Hermione asked, she did not know him as well I. "I didn't notice anything on her... but I could have missed-"

"No, it's not that sort of magic, Miss Granger," Severus said, his right index finger had started tapping again, "It's not something that can be explained to you, it's not something you've heard of or read about in your_ beloved_ books."

"But don't you think we should do something for her?" she pressed. I held my breath for the inevitable lash of poison that was about to be unleashed on her.

"I would if I knew what," he admitted, I stared wide eyed at his calm face, "As far as I know, it might not even affect her beyond today."

I had forgotten that Severus was unexplicably less venemous towards Hermione than he was to nearly every other human being. She was more than decent at potions, which might be part of it and her extraordinary inteligence probably accounted for some more. It might be taking it a little bit too far to stay that Severus possibly even _respected_ Hermione.

"I think I understand now," my friend stated suddenly, "Why you brought her here," she elaborated at our puzzled looks.

"Harry, you feel responsible for what happened to her. Since we won the war you've taken on responsibility and guilt for the people who gave their lives to protect us before you defeated him. You feel that she was another casualty that you've been given a chance to 'save'," she offered. I am continuously surprised at how well she can read me. "And, Professor Snape, you also feel responsible for what happened to her. You were involuntarily involved in Voldemort's 'experiment', were you not?"

His silence spoke volumes of his respect for her and his feelings for me. Were she anyone else, she would have been hexed out the door. His silence also confirmed his involvement.

"No one can hold that against you, not even her, whatever it was. You did what you had to do, Professor," she said softly.

I could see the fire burning brighter in his eyes, the tension building in his body and noticed the way his aura was darkening and absorbing the warmth from the room.

"Have you had dinner, Hermione?" I offered quickly.

I was pulling her into the kitchen before I got a reply.

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This is a pretty unusual story for people to really enjoy... but please leave me your thoughts regardless.

xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

I apologize is this chapter stops making sense or gets weird towards the end. I am falling asleep and I tend to stop being able to write good things when I am sleepy.

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Watching the sun spilling it's first golden pink rays across the horizon was a sight I would never get used to. If there was only one good thing that came from fighting a war, overthrowing a dark lord and nearly being killed dozens of times before you reached the tender age of 18, it was an apreciation for small things in life. Like the sun rising over the lush green Scottish hills every morning.

I woke up before dawn nearly every day simply so I could enjoy the sunrise on our back porch with a cup of tea. If I had lived a different life, I don't think I would have enjoyed this as much, and that would be a shame. This was something that temporarily filled the cavernous hole in my soul.

Prying myself out of Severus's warm grasp in the morning was not something I enjoyed, but the warmth of my house coat and slippers set next to the fire overnight, and a steaming cup of tea nearly made up for it. Sipping my over sweetened tea, I was thinking about that loving embrace and how no one, not even myself, could have anticipated it could belong to one Severus Snape.

_"I still don't completely understand how this makes you happy," Hermione stated between mouthfuls of the quick supper I whipped together for her._

_"Severus?" I asked._

_"Yes, I don't think I'd like being frightened of Ron when he gets angry," she clarified._

_"I'm not afraid of him," I said, shocked by the accusation. Did I look afraid? "He just needs to be alone when he's worked up. But he doesn't scare me."_

_"So you always just walk away when he gets annoyed?" she asked._

_"He was more than annoyed. If he's annoyed I generally like to annoy him further, because he's hilarious when he's annoyed," I explained, "No, just then he was _angry_. I just didn't fancy the idea of having to reconcile him to you after he tore you to shreds."_

_She was staring at me now, she didn't understand, and when Hermione didn't understand something she usually just looked at it until it explained itself to her. So much for her knowing me so well. I couldn't blame her though, my relationship with Severus was hard for everyone to accept, myself included sometimes._

_I decided to again, "He hates himself for what he had to do for, well, nearly all of his life. He did a lot of things he won't even hint at to me. Bringing it up, generally tends to cause him to boil over, especially when you are trying to tell him it was 'okay'. In his mind, the things he did, regardless of the reason, will never be 'okay'. And giving him cause to think about it is never a good idea."_

_She nodded her understanding then, and continued eating._

_"He just doesn't seem... romantic. Or even remotely loving. I can't imagine what it would even be like for him to touch somebody. He hardly seems capable of emotion," she said._

_"He's different when it's just us," was all I could say. "Warm."_

_"Warm," she repeated, giving it some thought, chewing her food like she was chewing the thought._

I smiled to remember our conversation the previous night. I couldn't even be offended by what she had said. I used to think the same things about him.

I'd offered Hermione a room for the night, but she had wanted to go home, promising to stop by today to check on her patient. I said it was unnecessary but she was welcome all the same.

"Harry?" a soft voice startled me from my thoughts.

"Ella," I jumped and whirled around to make sure she was okay. I met her grey eyes then gave her a quick once over, she didn't seem in any danger of falling over. "All right?"

"Fine, thank you," her voice was wispy and melodic when it was this soft, she looked at the ground, "Better now."

She was leaning against the doorway, her hands absentmindedly rubbing her arms against the cold. I offered her my house coat, which she politely declined until it was clear I wouldn't take no for an answer. She hesitantly wrapped herself in it and then visibly relaxed in it's warmth. A long moment passed.

I looked away, suddenly not knowing what to say. "I like the sunrise," she said.

"Me too," I said lamely. C'mon, Harry! Say something intelligent. "Would you like some tea?" That'll have to do.

"I would love some," she smiled very slightly.

I urged her to have a seat on the cushions I kept on the porch for my morning ritual. She was curled up comfortably in my house coat on my cushions when I came back with her tea. A part of me I could not identify liked this idea.

I sat on the bare wood next to her, ignoring my previous thought. As she stared across the landscape, I took a long moment to really study her for the first time. It suddenly occurred to me that she was breathtaking. Her clean, brushed hair was thick, waist length and an unusually radiant platinum ash blonde. Her large round eyes were a crisp icy grey framed with a near black ring. Her skin, though marred with bruises was otherwise flawless and glowing alabaster Her brow was delicate and feminine but somehow strong as well, and her lips were plump and pinched, the corners turned down slightly. She looked so familiar and yet so alien all at the same time. Studying her caused unidentifiable feelings to bubble somewhere inside the crevasse that I struggled to ignore.

Her gaze shifted from the sunrise to me, and I still could not look away. After a moment she smiled very slightly again and looked away to sip her tea. I wondered what a full smile looked like on her.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Harry," she said, taking another sip. "I can't imagine many people would take in a delusional stranger they meet in a dungeon.

"You're welcome here as long as you would like," I offered, "Severus and I... well, we have the space and we both understand what it's like to be, well... a survivor. Chewed up and spit out again by the war."

She nodded in agreement.

"You seem well," I said, opening the conversation for her to talk if she choose to.

Surprisingly she did, looking everywhere but at me, "I can't believe it's over. I thought I would die there. I never thought I would see another sunrise. I woke up this morning and I just about had a panic attack because I was so warm. I haven't been warm in months and I thought he was playing a trick on me.

"I didn't know what he wanted me to do so I just lay there and waited... but nothing happened. So I got up and wandered down here. It wasn't until I felt the sun on my skin and the tea on my lips that I knew this is real. You can't conjure a cup of tea this delicious or a sun this warm."

I remained silent for a bit, then "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you to get used to."

She nodded again, using a hand to brush her hair around the back of her neck and over her left shoulder. She winced in surprise and I saw the lobe of her ear had been torn, as if an earring had been ripped out. Hermione must have missed it. "May I?" I gestured to her ear.

She nodded her consent, but cried out and flinched away from me when I pulled my wand out. Her tea cup fell from her hand and spilled it's contents across the porch. I put my hands down and pushed a step back from her to let her know I meant no harm.

Her eyes looked around wildly for a moment or two before they finally found focus again. She curled in on herself with her head in her hands and whispered, "I'm sorry."

I reached out and tentatively put my hand between her shoulders blades. She leaned into my hand so I scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her. Her head came to rest on my shoulder.

"I don't think I'll ever be normal again," she said mournfully.

"I thought that too," I said, "Do, think that. Still."

"You probably won't ever be the person you were," Severus's deep liquid voice said from behind me. He set a tray with 3 warm cups of tea in front of us. He caught her gaze with a finger and her chin and said, "The best you can do is put back together the pieces that are left and live your life as honestly as you can."

I know he meant that as much for me as for her.

* * *

Two chapters in one day. I'm on a roll!

xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

Breakfast went by fairly awkwardly. We all ate heartily, saying very little. I was probably the only one who found it awkward, Severus paid little mind to any sort of social convention, only said what needed to be said and never felt the need to fill a silence. He spent most of breakfast watching Ella, making sure she ate what he deemed to be enough, but he needn't have worried because she was shoveling the food in with a vigor I admired. When she became aware I was staring, she slowed down, but that only lasted a moment or two.

I had discovered month's ago that Severus was actually a fabulous cook, which probably should not have surprised me. What did surprise me is that he liked to cook completely magic free, the muggle way. He said it just tasted better. He outdid himself this morning with the most delicious fry-up I have ever had- bacon, poached eggs, fried tomato, mushrooms, and bread, sausages and baked beans.

When breakfast was finished and cleared, we remained at the table, for my part it was because I was too full to trust my legs to carry my weight. The fatigue of eating a huge meal had settled over us all.

"That was delicious, Professor Snape," Ella said politely, "Thank you."

Severus nodded in response. He did not take compliments. I always thought this was because he already knew better than anyone that he was good at everything he did.

"Forgive me for my ignorance..." she began hesitantly, "You... live together?"

"We're lovers," was all Severus offered.

"Of course, I apologize," she averted her eyes.

I felt the need to explain more, "It's unexpected, I know. It happened rather by accident, but it's... what we need."

She nodded and gave the same small smile from earlier that left me wanting more, "I'm glad."

We sipped our tea in silence for a few minutes, after which she began fidgeting in her chair.

"If you have something to say, Miss Parker, please use your words like an intelligent adult," Severus said.

She flushed pink, "It's just that... I have no clothes, y'see. Nor a wand."

"Of course you don't," Severus replied, "We'll take you shopping."

"I could just... borrow some."

"You are the size of a twig, you will not fit anything of ours," Severus replied, gesturing to the way my shirt hung from her body like a bed sheet on a clothesline.

"But... I haven't got any money," she was a deep shade of red now.

"I do not recall mentioning you would need money," he said.

"You give too much," Ella whispered.

"I give enough," Severus said sharply. "We will go this afternoon."

"I don't think..." she began, "I can't."

A cross look washed over his face and was gone, "Of course. I shall go alone." She looked like she thought she'd offended him, I knew him well enough to know he'd been upset with his own thoughtlessness.

"Thank you, Professor."

He pushed his chair from the table and said, "Mr. Potter will show you around." Before he disappeared.

"I'm sorry he's so sharp," I felt the need to apologize for his manners, "He doesn't mean anything by it, and you get used to it."

"I don't mind at all," she replied genuinely, "I had him for potions class the year I was at Hogwarts, compared to that, he's positively peachy."

"He mentioned you were rather good at potions," I confessed.

"Well you wouldn't have known it from the way he spoke, I didn't think anyone would ever be able to please him," she said, I saw a hint of personality coming through this comment.

"I have yet to see the day when somebody has managed to impress Severus Snape," I agreed with a grin. "I'm sure whatever you heard was nothing compared to the insults he saved for me. He hated me since the first moment he saw me. I'm pretty sure he spent his free time inventing new ways to insult and humiliate me, practised his most menacing look in front of the mirror and everything."

She let out one small giggle. "He can't have been that bad! Look at him now, he clearly adores you."

"Does he?" I said in surprise. How did she know?

"It's pretty obvious in his body language. He's tensed up and surly until you enter the room, then he's calm and mild."

"And what about me?" I was curious now, what she saw in me, she was obviously very perceptive.

"You're very easy to read," she said confidently, "You're about as far from a typical male your age as you can get. My theory is that you identify with him in a lot of ways, probably because of what you've been through. You also have a great deal of respect for him because you can look under the prickly exterior and see who he really is."

"And who is he?" I asked, fascinated.

"I haven't seen enough to really form an opinion on that..." she admitted, "But I suspect what I find will be worthy of your high regard."

"Well, I won't spoil it for you then," I said with a smile, "You can find out yourself."

I showed her around our cottage then. The guest room, which I explained was hers as long as she wanted it, and the library. I showed her the basement which had been converted into an advanced potions lab for Severus, who currently occupied the space and only offered us a grunt as greeting. We ended up strolling through the gardens, which were as large and the cottage was small.

I found out to my surprise, Ella had been raised by muggles like me. Although it seemed her experience had been a warm one, unlike mine. We were having a discussion about the advantages and disadvantages of wizards with such an upbringing when I spotted Hermione coming up the walk.

"Ella, this is Hermione Granger," I introduced them after greeting her with a hug, "Hermione is my closest friend. She, um, helped... care for you yesterday."

"Yes, of course, I'm Ella Parker," Ella replied immediately and politely, she reached out her hand, "Thank you so much. I know this is a really unusual situation and nobody has any obligation to help me... It means alot to me that you've all been so willing."

"It was nothing," Hermione said politely, shaking her hand, "Please call me Hermione. If I'm not mistaken, you were with the Beauxbatons students that came to Hogwarts during the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

"You have an excellent memory!" Ella said, "I was."

To end the uneasy silence that followed, I offered, "Ella was just telling me she was brought up by muggles like us."

"Oh?" Hermione asked with interest, "Muggle born?"

"No..." Ella blushed for reasons I could not fathom, "I was born to a young witch, but she gave me up. I ended up adopted by very distant relatives, a line of squibs 3 generations long who live as muggles."

We discussed this for a few minutes until Hermione asked, "So, how are you feeling, Ella?"

She turned red again, and mumbled, "Like I was used as a toy for a giant, then had tea with a dementor. But healing."

"That's to be expected, I think. I'm not very good at all with healing, and with your allergy there's not much I could safely use. Other than physically?"

"A tad shell-shocked. Like I'm dreaming," She said sadly.

Hermione just nodded, "Well you look worlds better than you did yesterday. When you're ready, I think it would do you good to talk to someone about what happened. I'm more than willing to listen if you'd like."

Ella just nodded, "Thank you."

An awkward silence stretched out for a moment before Hermione said, "Oh! I brought you some of my clothes. Honestly, you look a bit ridiculous dressed like that."


	6. Chapter 6

I know I've been gone for quite some time. I have a lot more than this written, but it's a little bit lengthy and boring in parts and needs to be adjusted before I can post. If you're following, know that I am still working! Please enjoy, and give me feedback as encouragement to write faster.

* * *

"You've got to talk to the ministry, Harry," Hermione said to me as soon as Ella was out of earshot. She had excused herself after our light lunch to have a lay down.

"I'm sorry?" I asked confused.

"About Ella!" she scolded, like I was playing dumb.

"I don't follow."

She sighed, "Honestly, Harry! I had Ron look into it, and it turns out she was an auror working for the ministry during the war and her file is still listed as missing in action."

"That's what she said," I agreed, still lost.

"Yes, so you've got to tell them she's not missing anymore," she explained, "Tell them you found her."

"Hermione, I don't think she particularly wants to be found," I said.

"Well it's rather important for the records to have an accurate count of casualties in the war," Hermione stated, "And besides that, there might be people who care about her who want to know where she is!"

"I care a hell of a lot more about her needs than I do about a record of how many people died because of him," I said heatedly, and_ because of me._

"Harry!" she raised her voice.

"Look... I know! Okay?" I said angrily. "But I'm sure it can wait! The records aren't going anywhere. You didn't see her face this morning when Severus suggested taking her out to get a new wand. She looked like someone had given her a death sentence."

Hermione's face softened, "She's probably terrified of being found by_ them_. I had no idea that they were so_ sick."_

"She's not the only one we've found," I whispered, my skin starting to crawl again, "Although she's the worst I've seen... there have been others, most dead."

Hermione shivered, "I don't want to know."

"No," I agreed wholeheartedly, "She's just been through so much, Hermione. Sev says they had her for _10 months_. We probably can't even imagine... I just don't want her to hurt anymore."

"That sounds personal, Harry," she warned.

"I know," I spoke candidly, "I've just felt like I should protect her from the first moment I saw her."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "She is rather endearing, considering how beautiful she is."

"What d'you mean?" I wrinkled my brow.

She rolled her eyes, "Women generally don't like other women who are beautiful. Really, Harry, do you pay attention at all?"

I grinned, "Well I'm sure if you noticed... but Severus is about all I pay attention to and he's neither a woman, nor beautiful." She giggled and I was glad for the lighter mood.

"So you agree you'll tell them?" she asked, serious again.

"If you agree to let me wait until a better time," I said warily.

"That's fair," she said grudgingly, "What do you plan to do with her until then?"

"What d'you mean 'do with her'?" I asked incredulously, "She can stay here as long as she wants and we'll provide for her whatever she needs to move on. What else would we do?"

"That's a large favor to do for a complete stranger, Harry," she said slowly, like she was waiting for me to puzzle something out.

"I can't see why that matters. I've never done things in the 'proper' way, you know that," I explained, somewhat affronted. "And really... I just want to help her. She needs somebody to _help_... you know I've been sorta... struggling to adjust since it all ended... it gives me something _good_ that I can do."

Hermione sighed, "You're right. It might be a good thing."

"It is be a good thing," I state firmly.


	7. Chapter 7

I posted a chapter yesterday and I got 9 views on that new chapter already! I'm really very curious to see who reads a story as odd as this one and why. I would love for you to identify yourselves and I promise to answer any questions you may have.

A very long chapter for you today- triple the size of most so far! There was a giant wall of text going on and on about how misunderstood Severus is. I cut it down by half, hope it's not too boring for you still! I have tons and tons more, all in all I have 50k words written for this story but a lot of it is in the future and completely disjointed from this piece, so it might be quite a while before you see any of it. If only I could stay on one timeline for any length of time!

Enjoy! :)

* * *

I'm paralyzed. There are cold hands on my body, seeming to touch everywhere my mind is screaming for them not to. I feel pain as my legs are pulled apart viciously. I try to scream but no sound comes out of my throat, I try to move but my limbs just won't respond. Pain, sharp as a knife slices through all other sensations of cold flesh and violation...

I sit up suddenly, desperately trying to take in my surroundings. The breath I was holding rushes out of my throat all at once and I'm gulping in air. I'm in a bed. In the guest room and Harry and Professor Snape's cottage. I'm covered in bandages that Hermione helped change before I laid down for a rest.

This is real.

Still trying to catch my breath I slide out of bed and gratefully redress in the jeans and t-shirt Hermione brought for me. Downstairs, I find her and Harry immersed in a conversation. They don't notice me, so I continue down the hall and into the cellar.

Professor Snape is here as I had hoped, "Good afternoon, Professor."

"Miss Parker," he mumbles, not looking up, "You've clothed yourself more appropriately, Miss Granger I presume?"

"Yes," I say shyly, "She's very thoughtful."

"I've put your new wand and clothes in the wash closet upstairs. The wand won't be perfect, but if should suffice for the time being until you are able to obtain your own," he said.

"Thank you so much," I said honestly. I notice myself still trembling from my nightmare and cross my arms in an attempt to hide it.

"Cold, Miss Parker?" he asks.

"No," I reply, not offering the explanation.

He looks right at me with his piercing eyes, "I can add Draught of the Living Dead to the list of potions to brew without belladonna?" He's perceptive, it seems.

"You don't need to go to that trouble," I reply.

He ignores me. So I offer, "I still know my way around a mortar and pestle..."

"Good, I need 6 parts lavender and 3 snakes scales ground to a fine powder," he replies.

"Isn't thyme a better substitute for Belladonna than lavender?" I ask, taking the pestle in my hand anyway.

He shoots me a dark look, "Under most circumstances, but thyme will negate the function of the blisterthorn here," he pauses for a moment, then adds, "Although... deathbell may achieve the same effect... we'll try both and test for efficacy."

I feel proud of myself as I continue grinding.

The next few weeks pass rather quickly. I spend my mornings watching the sunrise with Harry, Severus cooks us breakfast, then I spend a few hours reading while they excuse themselves to the study, presumably to pour over maps and data pertaining to the whereabouts of rogue death eaters. They are careful not to involve me in any of that.

In the afternoons we could do any number of things. Often Harry is busy at the ministry, he acts as the messenger between he and Severus and their team. Severus will seldom ever join him and I understand there is no love lost between him and the Ministry. Harry hates them too, but he goes because at least in his case the feeling is not mutual.

I've always had a unique talent for reading people and their true intentions. Because of this I find myself wondering daily how anyone could despise Severus Snape as much as most people seem to. I understand he is surly and grumpy and mean spirited... but that's not _who he is_.

I see more than the mask. When Harry is gone in the afternoons I often join Severus in his potions cellar. Sometimes I help, sometimes I watch, always I learn. He likes to teach, believe it or not. He's not very quick to trust me with anything important, but gradually we get there. I see his intelligence in his eyes when we're down here, there is such a gentleness in the way he handles everything as if it's fragile. There is confidence in the gracefulness of his movements.

Other things people may not know about him in that he is self-sacrificingly generous and he truly enjoys _helping_ people. Though he always makes it seem like a chore and insults the person he is helping mercilessly in a valiant effort to hide anything good about his character. He is fears only one thing- human connection. The most important thing to know about Severus is that he cannot see any of the good in himself. He is just as fooled as the rest of the world is into believing his is a bad person. Trying to convince him otherwise is a waste of time.

Time spent with Harry is nothing but enjoyable. He's kind and loyal. He also has a hard time seeing the good in himself. My heart aches for him sometimes as he stares off at the horizon, I can feel a heavy guilt radiating off of him. He blames himself for the majority of the deaths at the end of the war, when truly he is the hero who was ready and willing to give his life to save everyone else's. He was given a much deserved second chance to live and he truly has no idea what to do with it now that he's not part of a prophecy to save the world. I feel heartbroken that he should have had to live the life he did and deal with the obscene things that no child should have to deal with.

But he's not always reflective and sad. Most of the time he's smiling and goofing around and conspiring with me the various different ways we can mildly irritate Severus. Our conversations in the morning vary wildly from deep conversations about war and the aftermath to laughing about how little understanding most witches and wizards actually have about muggles and how they live. I know that Harry will be okay once he has enough time to find his real place in this world. I know the same thing about myself as well, but I am definitely putting off thinking about that because it would mean I would have to leave this heaven I have discovered and the angels who saved me.

This particular afternoon, I have chosen to spend in the living room with a cup of tea. I don't like to join Severus everyday because he is a very solitary creature and would probably go mad if he didn't get to spend some time by himself. I'm also slightly jittery and nervous and I really don't want to have to explain this to a grumpy man who is nearly as perceptive as I am. I'm anxious because I gave Harry permission to inform the ministry that I am alive. He is not to inform them of my whereabouts, we both agreed on that, but he may give them some vague details of the circumstances of my time as a captive and subsequent rescue.

That conversation about what details he may disclose was an awkward one, and the only time we've ever discussed it. I know I probably should... but I'm just not ready yet. The nightmares are still too intense and it still feels too real to me...

_"I think it's time," I announce one evening after dinner has been cleared and we've all made out way to the living room._

_"Excellent," Harry says, "Time for what exactly?"_

_"To _inform_ the ministry," I say._

_"Ah," he says, "I'm perfectly happy to do that for you."_

_"I was hoping you would say that," I tell him, "Because I really don't think I'm ready to go that far. But they should know, it would be a load off my mind, anyway."_

_"What will I tell them?" he asks softly._

_I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, we have yet to have a single conversation about what happened to me before they found me. I've been determined all day that I am going to say it, finally._

_"You may tell them I was held captive for 10 months. You may tell them I revealed no important information, not that that it was difficult to keep it to myself, they didn't want me for what I might have known- they tortured the other members of my team for that. You may tell them I was physically and sexually assaulted daily. Tortured and raped. I was humiliated and over time broken into being an obedient slave._

_"You may tell them I have names: Avery, Macnair, Pettigrew, Malfoy, Nott, Yaxley, Crabbe, Rowle, Lestrange, Carrow, Dolohov, Crabbe and more often than not Voldemort was there with every single one of them. There are many more, probably as many as 50, but I have no names for the others, only faces. I do not want the ministry to know I can identify more. I will do that when I am ready. The scars on my body are proof, you've seen enough of them, you are a witness."_

I'm startled from my thoughts by the sounds of the wards around the cottage chiming that a permissible individual has passed through, and I wait for the knock on the door before opening it. We weren't expecting any guests to the best of my knowledge, so I open the door expecting Hermione and instead I find a plump, jovial looking red haired woman.

"Good Afternoon!" She says pleasantly, "You must be Harry's guest I've heard so much about!"

I smile politely, she's obviously a close friend. I hold out my hand, "Ella. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Molly Weasley," she says. _Of course!_ I think. "It's lovely to meet you dear."

"Please come in," I say with my biggest smile, gesturing her inside.

"Of course, thank you," she says and steps inside, "Is Harry around?"

"Actually, no," I say with a frown, "He's on an errand at the Ministry this afternoon. He should be home within the hour though, you're welcome to stay. I may not be as good company as Harry, but I'm told I make excellent tea!" I offer.

"You don't have to do that dear, I could come back," she offered politely, though I could tell she preferred to stay.

"Oh it's no trouble, Mrs. Weasley. Harry and Severus have been so generous to me, the least I can do is make their guests equally as comfortable."

"Well, if you insist," she agrees sitting down on the sofa.

"I'll be right back with the tea," I say heading to the kitchen, I add, "I'll call Severus."

"Oh no," she's says quickly, "You needn't bother him for me."

"No, no, its' fine," I say with a smile, "Honestly, the company is good for him."

I know I was just thinking that Severus could use an afternoon alone, but I can give him that any day. I feel like socializing would be good for him, and I could tell in Mrs. Weasley's tone that she would prefer he weren't there. I'll take any chance I can get to show people that Severus is good.

I decide to go right downstairs and insist he come up once I set the water boiling. It's easy enough for him to grunt a 'no' at me from down there, but face to face, I've discovered he won't deny me anything. I've recently learned that he quite likes me, probably because of my competency with potions.

"Who was at the door?" he asks mildly curious, though not enough for eye contact, as I descend the stairs.

"Mrs. Weasley," I reply.

"Not Granger?" he asks for clarification.

"Not Hermione," I confirm.

"Molly," he says, "What does she want?"

"Tea with us," I lie, mostly to irritate him and he knows that. He only gets grumpy with Harry for teaching me how to annoy him.

"Suppose I politely decline?" he asks.

"I'm afraid I insist," I say, trying not to grin.

He sighs dramatically, and drops the items he was holding hard on the table to try to reclaim his prickly reputation. I know full well that if he really didn't want to, he would tell me so in words only he would use. I know I can't make Severus do something he doesn't want to.

Mrs. Weasley looks surprised when the two of us join her with tea. Like she really didn't think he would. She looks even more surprised when he speaks.

"Molly," he grunts in greeting.

"Hello, Severus," she says politely, reigning in her shock, "You look well."

He grunts again and takes his tea to his favourite chair.

"So Hermione must have told you about me then?" I ask, making conversation. "I hope it was good."

"Yes!" Molly says, "She says Harry is quite taken with you... in a friendly way, of course," she glances nervously at Severus, "And Hermione speaks very highly of you."

"She's too kind to me," I blush. "Your son is very lucky to have her."

"Oh, I agree," she says, conspiratorial.

"Your husband works for the ministry. Arthur Weasley?" I say, "I believe I met him during my brief time there."

"Yes, you were an Auror, weren't you dear?" she asks.

"Yes, briefly and not a very good one, I don't think, with how long it lasted," I reply.

"Well, with how dark the times were... I think anyone who didn't defect was the best auror they had. It's not just about your reflexes and proficiency, it's also about your personality," she says reassuringly. I can see why she's a mother figure for Harry, she's very maternal. "Whether you survived or not had less to do with skill and a lot more to do with pure luck at the end."

"Well, I'm here so I must have a horseshoe hidden somewhere I don't know about," I agree. She smiled slightly. There's not really much a person can do with talk of the war other than joke about it, and it's seldom ever funny.

We went on to talk about her sons and husband and their jobs at the Ministry. I found Molly very easy to talk to. Severus even added the occasional comment (thinly veiled with an insult), but he retreated back downstairs when his tea was finished. He wasn't the type for lingering.

"You know I've never spent time with Severus except on business before today," Mrs. Weasley tells me, "He's not like I thought he would be."

"He isn't!" I agree enthusiastically, "I really enjoy spending time with him. He knows something about everything... you can learn a lot if you're willing to listen."

"I still don't see the appeal of purposely seeking his attention..." she starts hesitantly, "but if he has the endorsement of Harry and a polite young girl like you... and to some extent Hermione, then he must not be as bad as all the fuss that's been made."

She _did_ call me polite so I hope she will excuse the directness of my next comment, "I understand there's been some trouble between Harry and your family since he's been with Severus." And_ that_ was my other motive for asking Severus to tea.

She looks slightly flustered for a moment, but I know she's a lot keener than she seems to be. I continue, "Forgive me if it's not my place, but I care a lot for Harry and I know you do as well. He's more bothered by it than he lets on to you, I think."

"Thank you for your concern, Ella," she says deliberately, "I appreciate your boldness. There's no doubt in my mind that Severus is one of the bravest and most self sacrificing wizards alive and that we all owe him our lives... my concern has always been this: is he the best thing for Harry? Can he make Harry happy? Would he be happier settling down with a nice witch such as yourself?"

"Maybe," I reply, "But I don't think so. Harry doesn't exactly know what our definition of 'normal' is, does he? He's never experienced it. Severus understands him better than anyone else could... and gives him the freedom he needs to discover exactly who Harry Potter is, beyond 'The Boy Who Lived'.

Think about it: they've both lived nearly the entirety of their lives dedicated to the exact same purpose. They were the most important pawns, used by two powerful men to win a dangerous war. And now that's it's over, neither of them know what their purpose in this life in, neither of them expected to have a life after it was over. So now they have each other... a reason to be. Nobody else could understand Harry as well as Severus does."

"As well as you seem to?" Mrs. Weasley says slyly, then realizes what she's said, "I mean of course, you have a very good point. I didn't realize things have been so hard for him..."

"Nobody does, he won't let on," I tell her, "You shouldn't blame yourself. I only know because I've lived with the two of them for nearly 3 months now. There are some things you can't help but notice in close proximity."

I hear the wards make their distinctive chime signaling that Harry has passed through, "That'll be him now," I say, "Don't let on that we've had this chat?" I beg.

"Of course not dear," she reassures, "There's no need to."

Harry steps into the room and nearly as soon as he's in he's wrapped her is a bear hug, "Mrs. Weasley!"

"Please, Harry dear, it's 'Molly'," she says, flustered by his affection. I know I'm grinning.

He pulls back, "How long has it been? Why are you here? It doesn't matter! You have to stay for dinner."

"But Arthur..." she begins.

"He'll join us to!" Harry exclaims, I don't think I've seen him this excited, "Please, I insist."

Molly grins widely and touches his cheek briefly, "Okay, you win. I really just came to visit with you anyway."

"I'll cook," I offer, "So you can catch up. I'm nowhere near as good as you, Mrs. Weasley, from what I've heard of your cooking, but it will do."

"Please, call me Molly," she says again more pointedly to both of us, "And I'm sure it will be lovely."

"I'll let Sev know then," I tell Harry with an encouraging smile, he's giving me the 'You don't have to do that look'.

I hear Molly chatting away at him as I leave the room and descend the stairs again.

"Harry's home," I tell Severus as I approach the counter he's working at.

"I do have ears, Miss Parker," he says.

"Oh, you do?" I counter, "How human of you."

"In this form," he adds.

I grin. Another secret fact about Severus Snape: he has a really good sense of humour. "Molly will be staying for dinner and Mr. Weasley will be joining us as well."

"Lovely," he snarls. He's faking.

"I'll be cooking," I inform him.

"No you will not," he punctuates each word threateningly, "I have no desire to be poisoned this evening by an incompetent ninny who can't tell a stove from a shower head."

This sets me off giggling and I can hardly stop enough to ask him, "You just called me... a ninny? Really Severus... either you're running out of vocabulary or you're going soft."

He ignores me, "I will be preparing dinner."

"I'll help," I say, nearly recovered.

"I won't have my house burnt down," he spins dramatically and stalks upstairs. He is referring to the first time I tried to use my new wand to boil water for tea and started a small fire on the cupboard.

"That was only once!" I call after him, giggling again.


	8. Chapter 8

Another chapter for you, and so soon! I think I have more adding or tweaking to do to this chapter, but I can't think of anything, so here it is! I may add a couple chapters in between 6 and 7 as well... this is always a work in progress. I've already rewritten bits of the chapters I've posted here so far.

Enjoy.

* * *

The rest of the night passed fairly quickly and easily after our guests departed. We settled back into our normal routine, which was a cup of tea in the living room before bed, Harry and I chatting, Sev reading a book. Except that for me at least, things had taken a very unexpected turn. Since Mr. Weasley's strange implication that the three of us were engaging in some kind of bizarre three way relationship, I couldn't get the idea out of my head. I started seeing both Harry and Severus in a romantic light. I quickly realized that I had fallen in love without knowing anything about it.

That night I lay in bed, unable to sleep, memories coming to the surface and floating away again, proving that telling myself I wasn't in love with them was a lost cause.

_The third night I slept here, I woke up in the middle of the night screaming and clinging to a warm body. Severus had been holding me solidly against his chest as I screamed and thrashed against him in my nightmare. As I woke up he continued to hold me and whisper calming words in my ear until I could speak well enough to consent to swallowing a potion he offered. When I woke up in the morning he was still there, sitting in a chair beside the bed, sleeping with his head on my bed. I had never felt so calmed by another person's presence or touch like I did his..._

_One morning, during our regular chat on the back porch Harry told me about the family who 'raised' him. The neglect and abuse he suffered for years, his isolation from his real heritage. The anger I felt towards those people was unbearable, yet he defended their behaviour and genuinely wished them well. I realized then that Harry has the wonderful gift of being able to forgive and not hold a grudge. "It's not their fault, really. They were afraid of me and afraid of magic. They did what they thought they should to protect their family." But more than anything about this moment, it had been the smile on his face as he described his first week at Hogwart's, the feeling of finally belonging..._

_For the first week I was here, every morning and every evening Severus would gently remove all my bandages on my back and painstakingly cleanse and redress every wound, while Harry held my hand and stroked my hair and whispered stories from his school days to distract me from the pain. They always kept my modesty firmly in check and never once complained about the awful task..._

_When I went upstairs after Severus had informed me he left the clothes he had purchased me there- I found 32 different outfits both formal and casual in all different styles and colours, all the exact measurements I needed. Not your standard quality of clothing either, costly luxurious fabrics with beautiful lace or embroidery on every piece. Created by hand! Growing up I had only had a variety of 14 sets of clothing, as was relatively normal. I marched downstairs to demand he return it all and found that then, and every other time I have brought it up he pretends to have no idea what I'm talking about..._

_Every single morning since the first I am greeted on the back porch with a warm house coat, slippers and a cup of tea prepared perfectly. There's an extra set of cushions there now, placed deliberately in the place where the sun first hits the wood of the porch. Harry always knows what I need, when I want to talk, when I want to be goofy and when I want to be silent. He knows when I need a comforting arm around my shoulders and when I need to be left alone. He knows when I want to listen to him talk about nothing in particular, and when I have something I need to say. And I know without a doubt that it's a safe place, nothing I ever reveal about myself will extend beyond these sunrises we share..._

_I always found it curious that Severus would roll up only his right sleeve when working on his potions. One afternoon I found out why. He held a bottle of liquid up to the light so he could see how much was left in it. The lid wasn't sealed properly and some of the fluid slid down his arm, grumbling he rolled his left sleeve to wipe the fluid from his skin. I saw the dark mark that I was so familiar with, but that wasn't what he was hiding and not shocked me- it was the deep, angry scars running right through the mark._

_"What happened?" I asked softly as I reached my fingers out to trace the scars._

_"Not your concern," he said coolly and he gripped my wrist so hard it nearly brought tears to my eyes._

_"It looks like you... tried to pull it off with your bare hands," I pressed. His eyes flashed anger and then unmistakably sad until he released my arm, rolled down his sleeve and didn't speak another word for hours..._

_Sitting in the study one rare afternoon that Harry was home, drinking our tea, he made me laugh in the middle of a sip and I snorted liquid all down my front. He felt so bad, he immediately began wiping at my chest until he realized he was shamelessly molesting me. I laughed so hard, but he couldn't look at me without blushing and stammering for three days..._

_In the first month I was prone to random panic attacks. The worst of which happened as I was in the shower one morning. It was so sudden and intense, I lost my balance and hit my head, tangling myself in the shower curtain on the way down. Harry and Severus both came running as soon as they head, carefully unwrapped me from the curtain, rinsed the remaining soap from my body, clothed me, put me in bed and stayed with me until I was calm and asleep. One of them was at my side for every second of the rest of that day..._


End file.
